


pretty please pick me up in the air and don't put me down

by lisa6



Series: Pynch, from the outside. [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M, POV Outsider, Voyeurism, adam and ronan as a vaguely aloof power couple, also super oblivious tad carruthers, basically tad stalks adam and finds out why adam keeps rejecting him, featuring aglionby douchebags, so oblivious that it might be painful to read at times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 22:42:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17569313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisa6/pseuds/lisa6
Summary: Tad tries to make Adam Parrish fall in love with him.(aka Tad just doesn't get it and Adam is annoyed.)





	pretty please pick me up in the air and don't put me down

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in like an hour. Don't judge me; I just needed oblivious Tad lusting after Adam for a couple thousand words.

Tad Carruthers is a cool guy. He’s rich, he’s been on a road trip across Thailand and has relatives living in Switzerland, knows what clothes to wear and drives a nice British car. His light blonde hair is always styled to perfection and there aren’t any wrinkles in his school uniform ever.

Really, everyone would be lucky to go out with a dapper young man like him. His mom tells him that all the time. 

So why doesn’t Parrish see it?

Maybe he’s shy, Tad muses. Parrish doesn’t talk much, doesn’t laugh much, doesn’t seem to drink or go to parties at all. So Parrish being too shy to react to Tad’s attempts at flirting makes sense. 

Tad knows it can be intimidating to talk to someone like him when you’re someone like Parrish. Parrish is good-looking — almost too pretty for a boy, entirely too pretty for a boy made of dirt — but he’s different from everyone else at Aglionby, and in more ways than just his frayed clothes or his cheap haircut.

It’s the first day after an eventful summer break spent in Nice, and Tad enters Aglionby just like every day: self-assured and cocky, freshly sun-kissed and clad in the new designer clothes he’d purchased in France.

“Carruthers!” Frederic van Henstedt calls as soon as he spots Tad in the hallway.

“Shit, what happened to you, man?” Tad asks, eyeing the slightly rounded belly Frederic hadn’t sported the last time Tad had seen him.  

“Dubai, man. All you can eat menus everywhere you go.”

They continue bickering as they make their way to first period. Tad falters when they round the corner and step into the classroom to see Parrish already sitting at his desk, quietly writing something in his notebook. 

The golden morning sun shines in through the large windows, making Parrish’s hair seem more blonde-brown than its actual dusty color and the soft slope of his freckles nose even cuter.

“Think Parrish is ever gonna be done kissing teachers’ asses?” Frederic asks. It’s not the first time anyone’s ever said something along the lines of that about Parrish and it’s not the first time that Tad has ignored the way it makes his face burn. He knows he’s gay, but nobody else does.  

“Unlikely,” Tad snorts.

Frederic grins as he sits down in his usual seat and fishes his phone out of his blazer’s pocket to tap away on its screen. Tad, on the other hand, hesitates before he finally approaches Parrish. He stops next to him.

“Hi.” 

Parrish doesn’t react.

Tad pauses uncertainly. “Hello, Parrish?”

Parrish startles. He jerks his head up to look at Tad, his eyes wide — although they narrow rather quickly once he sees it’s Tad.

“Oh,” Parrish says, more breath than voice, and leans to the side Tad’s not standing on. He looks tense.

Tad’s chest warms up; there’s no reason for Parrish to be nervous around him but it’s sort of flattering that he is nonetheless.

“Have a good summer?” Tad asks.

Parrish breathes out and relaxes his face. Now he looks just like he always does — vaguely judgmental and incredibly exhausted. His pretty deep blue eyes flicker as he looks around the classroom before they set on Tad again.

“Yeah.”

Tad is at a loss for words. He’d hoped for a little more than a monosyllabic answer.

“Went on vacation?”

Parrish’s brows furrow. “No.” 

“Oh. Um, you know, if you’d like, you can come with me next time. I’m thinking of going to Bali, so—“

Parrish’s eyes widen again and one corner of his very nice lips pulls back. It’s sweet, really, to think of Adam Parrish, aloof and self-reliant as he is, being flustered by a simple offer Tad makes his friends all the time. Well, Parrish isn’t really a friend and Tad doesn’t really want to hang out with him the way he does with those who are. In fact, Tad isn’t particularly interested in doing anything friends do with each other with Parrish. Tad's fantasies involve little clothing — if any at all —, heated kisses and finally Parrish lying naked underneath him.

Just as Parrish is about to answer, the door to the classroom opens again and in steps Ronan Lynch, looking as arrogant as usual. Still, Parrish’s eyes dart to him as soon as he’s in his line of sight, and there’s a new sort of curve tugging on his lips.

“Fuck off.” That’s Lynch, coming to stand on Parrish’s other side. The words, however, are clearly directed at Tad. His knuckles brush Parrish’s shoulder fleetingly. Parrish tilts his head up in turn, a glint in his eyes. It’s almost ... playful? Fond?

“Do your homework?”

“Yeah, Parrish. Didn’t think I’d come unprepared, did you?”

Parrish cocks his head. There’s a fucking sly look on his face now and it makes Tad’s heart skip a beat. “To school? Never.” 

Lynch’s smile turns sharp. His eyes, too, when they glare at Tad. “Why are you still here?” 

Tad’s cheeks heat up. “Uh. I was inviting Parrish on a vacation.”

Lynch looks down at Parrish and after that back at Tad. He stares, blinks, and stares some more. Then, suddenly, he breaks out into a laugh; short and sharp.

“And what did he say?” Lynch asks as he sits down at his desk next to Parrish’s. He kicks the tip of his boot against Parrish’s leg, and Parrish kicks back, a little harder.

Tad sighs. “He hasn’t had a chance to say anything yet.”

“I thought I didn't have to,” Parrish says and Lynch grins, cruel and smug.

“Bye, Carruthers,” Lynch beams.

Tad goes, but in the course of the next two hours he keeps glancing over at Lynch and Parrish and therefore doesn’t miss the private smiles they send each other’s way, the inside jokes that make them grin every now and then, Lynch’s testy Latin jokes that earn him fondly exasperated eye rolls.

All of that makes Tad feel the kind of jealousy he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.

 

***

 

“It’s just... I don’t understand it. I thought they couldn’t stand each other,” Tad says around a mouthful of chips. His eyes are set on Parrish and Lynch sitting a few tables to his right. Gansey’s sitting between them, animatedly telling his two best friends a story entertaining enough to make both Lynch and Parrish listen attentively. Which is surprising because Lynch and Parrish both have very little tolerance for bullshit, and at least fifty percent of what comes out of Gansey’s mouth is exactly that in Tad’s opinion. 

“Sebastian said Lynch was with some girl last Saturday. My guess is that Parrish is hanging out with him to get pussy.”

“You think he’s straight?” Tad asks, carefully watching Frederic’s reaction.

“Looks a little twinky, huh?”

Tad looks at Parrish again. Frederic is wrong; Parrish doesn’t have a lot of meat on his bones, but he isn’t all skin either. There’s definitely muscle beneath that tan, freckled skin of his; lithe and subtle, but definitely there. It shows when he moves, and there have been incidents where his shirt had stretched over his shoulders or his arms or his stomach just so that it revealed the defined planes of hard muscle. Parrish probably doesn’t do any traditional workouts, but manual labor has done wonders for his body.

Tad blinks. Lynch has caught sight of him staring at Parrish and is now glaring at him over his shoulder for a moment before turning to Parrish and saying something. Parrish rolls his eyes and says something back that makes both Gansey and Lynch laugh.

“Probably gay,” Frederic concludes with a shrug. “Rednecks. You know how it is. My old man always says they don’t care where they stick it. That’s why our country’s going down the tube.”

When the bell finally rings, Parrish leaves on his own. Before he goes he stops by Lynch’s side to say something and brush his knuckles over his shoulder, the same way Lynch had done to him.

Once Parrish has left the cafeteria, Tad runs after him.  

“Parrish!”

He thinks Parrish might be walking a little faster. Tad remembers Parrish could be intimidated by him, so he makes his voice sound softer and tries for subtly seductive.

“I’ve just got a question.” 

“I’m not going on vacation with you,” he says, looking pained.

“No, that’s not— I mean, the offer still stands in case you change your mind but that’s not what I was going to ask.” Tad bumps his shoulder against Parrish’s and smiles a little when Parrish moves away a little and gives him a wide-eyed look. “I need help in Latin.”

“Lynch is better than me,” Parrish says immediately.

“He hates me for some reason, though. And I’m more interested in you.” He winks and Parrish’s eyes go even wider.

“Well, sorry, Tad. I don’t have the time.” 

“I’ll pay you,” Tad adds hastily. Then, remembering he was trying to be cool, he continues in a lazy drawl the way those unattainable guys in Hollywood movies speak, “twenty dollars per hour.”

At that, Parrish expression changes subtly, but it's a huge change still; his pale eyebrows had been raised just so that Tad hadn’t even noticed until they drop, and his jaw clenched enough to make his jawline appear more defined. He tilts his chin up and clenches his fingers around his textbook. “No, I can’t.”

And then he’s gone.

 

* * *

 

Gansey is sitting at one of the mahogany desks in the library when Tad finally finds him. He's flipping through that journal of his that he keeps bringing everywhere he goes, listening to Henry Cheng, who is sitting across from him and speaking in a hushed voice. 

Tad rolls his eyes before starting to make his way over to them.

"Gansey," Tad says. Henry looks up at him before Gansey does, and there's a grin on his face. Gansey looks a little disheveled, but he's quick to run a hand through his hair and a thumb across his bottom lip. "I'm looking for Parrish. Have you seen him?"

Henry's grin widens.

Gansey tilts his head. "Sorry to disappoint you, but no."

"Why are you looking for him?" Henry asks. "Oh, and while you're here, would you mind signing this petition?" Henry reaches into his folder to produce a sheet of paper full of half-heartedly sprawled signatures. "It's to prove our cultural sociology teacher wrong. Remember when he told us he believed our 'LGBTQ acceptance bullshit' was just that? Bullshit? I'm trying to make a point. If you sign this, you're saying you don't give a fuck who someone's attracted to."

"Um," Tad says, accepting the pen Henry's holding out to him and reaching over to sign the paper. "I was just meaning to talk to him about something."

When Tad looks up from the paper again, Henry's head is just turning to look back at him while Gansey is lowering his, a faint smile on his handsome face.

"What?"

Gansey shakes his head, still not getting rid of his smile. "Adam's busy, I'm afraid."

"Oh yeah. He works a lot, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, that's probably what he's doing right now." Henry nods. He looks like he might be fighting a grin, if the light in his eyes is anything to go by. Tad doesn't get it and when he raises an eyebrow in question, both Henry and Gansey can't keep from grinning, so Henry ends up being annoyed and waves a hand goodbye before leaving.

 

* * *

 

It’s a while until Tad gets a chance to speak to Parrish again — not because he hasn’t been at Aglionby, but because he seems even more aloof than usual.

Lynch has stopped attending Aglionby irregularly and started attending rarely, so Tad has almost forgotten about what an asshole he is until he gets cornered at his locker one day.

"Hey," Lynch says. He's smiling but that never means he's in a good mood. In fact, Tad has come to the conclusion that a smiling Ronan Lynch means more trouble than an aggressive-looking one. Mainly that's because an aggressive-looking Ronan gets kept in check by Gansey more often than not.

Instinctively Tad takes a step backwards, which means he ends up with his back pressed to the cold metal of his locker. Lynch's smile turns into a sneer; it's obvious what he thinks of Tad backing up.

Lynch cocks his head and narrows his eyebrows, feigning innocence.. "What's wrong?"

"What do you want?" Tad asks.

Lynch gives a nonchalant one-shouldered shrug. "Just hanging out by my locker," he says and reaches out to hit the locker next to Tad's. Tad had closed his eyes and stumbled a step to the side, expecting Lynch to deck him. When — after hearing the fist collide with the metal — he opens his eyes again, Lynch is giving him a pitying look.

"I didn't know this was your locker," Tad says.

"I don't have a lot of use for it."

Tad's eyes slide over Lynch's body. He's athletic — no wonder, considering he'd played a lot of tennis and had been really good at it, and gets into fights disturbingly often. There's a rumor that just last Saturday, he'd been beat up by Blake Skovron for hooking up with his girl. Tad doesn't really know where those rumors come from all the time because he hasn't ever seen Lynch make out with anyone, but this one he actually believes, because Skov was a friend of Kavinsky and it's no secret Kavinsky and Ronan had been friends. Which is weird as hell, seeing as Lynch is really close with Gansey and Parrish, who'd made no bones of their dislike towards Kavinsky.

This train of thought jolts Tad back to the here and now. Lynch is currently inspecting a textbook like he'd never seen it before, flipping though its pages with obvious distaste.

"Have you seen Parrish?" Tad asks.

Lynch's eyes instantly flicker over to him again. Tad wonders if it's because of the mention of Parrish or if it's because he hasn't wanted to grapple with the book in the first place. He turns his body so that he can lean his shoulder against his locker coolly, effectively keeping Tad in his place and not letting Tad see anything behind him, because Lynch is tall and Tad is … well, a little smaller than average. Lynch looks both intimidating and smug as fuck, and Tad is pretty sure Lynch knows that.

"Why?"

"I just wanted to talk to him."

"Hm," Lynch says.

"So?"

"I'm waiting for him right now, so he should be here any minute."

As if on cue, there's suddenly a tan, freckled hand curving around Lynch's hip and a dusty mop of adorably mussed hair appearing right behind Lynch's. Parrish's body is close, almost pressing up against Lynch's, but Lynch steps aside, leaning with his back against his locker and catching Parrish's hand on his hip around his wrist.

"Oh," Parrish says as soon as he sees Tad. His fair eyebrows raise just slightly and there's a faint blush coloring his cheeks. Cute how nervous he still is whenever he sees Tad, Tad thinks. Parrish steps away from Lynch — he's still closer than anyone else would stand next to their friend but he's not touching him anymore. "What are you doing here?"

"He just wanted to talk to you, Parrish. Don't be so rude," Lynch snarks.

The corners of Parrish's lips turn downward. "What about?"

"Um. Têtê-à-têtê, if you don't mind."

Parrish and Lynch exchange a look: Lynch looks amused, Parrish exhausted. He probably wants Lynch to go as much as Tad does.

"Just say it," Parrish says, waving a hand. 

"I got a new cookbook."

Parrish gets it immediately. At least Tad guesses so, because he takes a step back and rolls his eyes ceiling-ward. Lynch keeps staring at Tad with his eyes narrowed.

"Jesus," Lynch says.

"I was going to test one of the recipes anyway. So if you want to come around for it, I'd be happy to cook for two—"

Parrish shakes his head, pulling a face. Tad doesn't get it. Parrish really shouldn't have to feel so nervous around Tad all the time; he's a good guy, he won't pressure Parrish to do anything.

"No. I just—" Parrish glances at Ronan, who shrugs in turn before eventually throwing his attractive arm around Parrish's neck and letting his loosely curled fingers bump against Parrish's chest.

"As much as I'd love to stay and watch this shit show, it's time to go to Latin," Lynch says. Quieter, to Parrish, he says, "Come on," and Parrish lets himself be led away from Tad and to their classroom.

 

* * *

 

It's a few weeks later when Tad finally finds out what's going on. He's at Nino's with a couple fo his friends, a few tables from the one Gansey is sitting at with all of his closest friends — Parrish, Lynch and Henry.

"You're a shit driver," the tiny, perpetually feisty waitress is currently telling Henry. When Henry opens his mouth to argue, she adds, "Henry, you ran over my mom's potted plants just last week. All of them."

"Feeding into stereotypes," Gansey says with a grin. "I'm sure all of the Asian people who are actually decent drivers are very happy about that."

"Yeah," Lynch says. "All thirteen of them."

The waitress glares at him. "This is so rude."

"He was joking," Parrish defends.

"Also I'm not feeding into all of the stereotypes," Henry declares. "For example, I have a huge dick."

Gansey snickers into his fist while the waitress rolls her eyes so hard Tad can only white for at least three seconds.

"You're driving a sports car," she snaps. 

"Oh, look who's being offensive now," Lynch quips. "And are you sure, Cheng? Don't you only ever see it pixelated?"

Adam's grinning into his glass of iced tea.

Henry cocks his eyebrows. "Oh, looking at Asian gay porn, Lynch? Should Adam be worried?"

But Lynch only leans against the backrest of the booth and lays his arm across it, behind Parrish, his fingertips brushing the soft fabric of Parrish's well-worn shirt. It's a pale light blue, washed so often that the color's diluted, but it compliments Adam's skin tone and his hair color so well that it causes Tad's face to burn. He so, so, so wants to make out with him.

Unfortunately, a few minutes later, when Gansey's group has already left the restaurant and Tad's ringing phone yanks him out of the conversation with his friends, he steps outside to take the call and immediately catches sight of Lynch standing by his mean-looking BMW.

The car's multi-beam LED headlights are on, meaning Lynch had already unlocked the car but hasn't gotten in yet. It's parked a fair way off the restaurant's entrance and the other cars that are parked there, so Tad has to walk a few steps to get closer.

He doesn't know why he's even going there because he doesn't have a great amount of interest in Lynch or a conversation with him — particularly because holding a conversation with Lynch involves too much glaring and arrogance — but he keeps walking nonetheless.

He only stops short when suddenly, he hears a soft voice, pretty like its owner and deep like his eyes.

"Shut up," Parrish says, a laugh laced through those two words. It's strangely unfamiliar, hearing Parrish open and happy like that.

"I'm just saying," Lynch answers. "He probably would've cooked you something a lot fancier than Nino's pizzas."

"So?" Tad can't see Parrish's face, as Lynch's body — just a tiny bit taller than Parrish's — blocks his view, but he can see that Parrish is, again, very close to Lynch. Also, if he's not mistaken, this is definitely one of Parrish's hands cupping Lynch's cheek. "You cook for me all the time. Chicken wings with spicy honey butter and mango-avocado salsa? Chunky creamy mushroom soup? What the fuck would I need Carruthers for?"

Tad stops breathing.

Lynch's head moves as he leans a little closer, and then there's the unmistakable sound of a kiss.

"I'm not saying he'd be a better cook than me," Lynch mumbles. Another kiss. Another. And another one. Parrish's arms wind around Lynch's neck. "He probably fucking sucks."

"Oh, he definitely does," he says. Another kiss, this one slower and longer. "You're a fucking gift."

Lynch huffs a laugh. "Don't say shit like that to me when I'm still not entirely convinced you're not a dream."

"I'm older than you." It's said with a lightness that suggests that this particular topic is nothing new and nothing out of the ordinary.

"Mh-hm," Lynch hums. "I think I need more convincing than that."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Lynch tilts his head back when Parrish drops his to press kisses to the underside of his sharp jaw.

When Parrish speaks again, his Henrietta accent colors his words the blood red of the sun at sunrise, the grey-brown of Virginia's soil, the lush green of the fields in spring. "What kind of convincing do you need?"

Lynch's mouth pulls into a grin on an exhale. "It usually helps— you know how how when you dream you feel like you're in it? It's hard to think of you as a dream when you're deep inside of me."

Parrish straightens to look into Lynch's eyes. "Fuck," he says, with a lot of feeling. "The things you say."

"Will you?"

Parrish tilts his head, eyes glittering in the yellow light of the parking lot lamps. "Will I what?"

"Fuck me," Lynch breathes.

Parrish kisses his mouth. He's turned a little, pushing against Lynch with enough force that he has to lean back a little, back pressed against the driver's door. Tad can see the wet glistening of their tongues every now and then, can hear the harsh inhale Lynch sucks in through his nose when Parrish leans closer, can make out a hickey on Lynch's neck when Parrish's hand around it slides a little lower.

"Okay, fuck," Lynch hisses, holding Parrish still with his hands spanning his jaw, "stop. You're making me too hard."

Parrish smiles, soft now, and covers Lynch's hands with his own.

"Want me to drive?"

Lynch eyes him for a second before shrugging his shoulders and fishing his car keys out of his jeans pocket. "Knock yourself out."

Parrish's smile turns into a grin. He presses forward to kiss Lynch on his mouth once, gentle and quick, before shoving him out of the way and getting into the driver's seat.

Tad hurries to hide behind a tree when Lynch moves to turn around to circle the car, afraid of getting caught. His heart is somewhere near his feet and his breathing still doesn't function the way it usually does, but it gets a little better once the BMW has driven off the parking lot and Tad can process what the hell he's just witnessed. 

 _Shit_.


End file.
